September 23, 2013

September 20, 2013

For all my talk about being a hopelessly devoted summertime girl, I have to say that lately, I have again found myself totally obsessed with all things fall.

Around the middle of August, I usually start to panic knowing that my beloved summer will soon be heading south for the winter. But every year, without fail, I wake up one morning and just like that, I'm ready for fall.

I don't want to be hot anymore.

I want to fire up the crockpot.

Wear a sweater.

Make a pot of soup.

Chop some firewood.

(Kidding about the firewood chopping but I do dearly love a neatly stacked pile of logs.)

Since fall has not fully arrived here in my part of Montucky, I went back through my pictures and dredged up some photos of the falls of yore.

Additionally, I have been a Fall pinning fool on Pinterest.

Yesterday, I came across the ultimate fall board. I loved every single thing on it. I started re-pinning like a mad woman only to eventually discover it was my very own fall board.

Sometimes Pinterest is nice and tells you when you've already pinned something, but in this case I was getting the silent treatment.

Then I had to go back and delete, because I'm very neurotic about having duplicates on my boards.

It keeps me up at night.

(Here's the link to my fall board, just please don't look at any of my other boards as they are all a hot mess. I finally figured out how to put them in alphabetical order, but other than that, there is not much rhyme or reason to be found.)

How about you? Have the leaves started turning in your part of the world?

September 12, 2013

1. I've been home alone for a couple days, and last night I did something I've never done before. I succumbed to the Dairy Queen propaganda machine and drove all the way to town - the far end of town no less - solely for ice cream. I've jumped in the car spur of the moment with the fam many times before, but going by myself would take things to a new level and I was torn between no nonsense practicality (gas prices and being in my pajamas) and frivolity (I want a Blizzard. I WANT A BLIZZARD!). But, the Blizzard commercials were finally too much for me, so after a text from my bad influence daughter-in-law that said, "do it, do it, do it!!!!" I hopped in my car and drove to town for the Blizzard of the month, Choco Covered Cheesecake. (Pretty sure Choco is just a fancy way of saying fake chocolate.) My BIDIL (bad influence daughter in law) also reminded me that it was BOGO for 99 cents, so I picked up a Cappuccino Heath to stick in the freezer for my hubby when he gets home.

I got home, put in a movie and snuggled up on the couch full of chocolat-ish cheesecake anticipation and.....no cheesecake.

They forgot the cheesecake.

I had chocolate ice cream and some choco chunks, but NO CHEESECAKE, which was the whole point of the excursion in the first place.

Dairy Queen, why do you have to hate?

This should not surprise as our DQ does not have the best reputation for getting things right, but still. It's the stinking Blizzard of the Month!

I didn't have it in me to go back, or even call. I had consumed at least half of my Blizzard before I finally gave up fishing for a cheesecake chunk, so I was pretty full and my heart just wasn't up for a cheesecake confrontation with Joey, the 16 year old night manager at DQ. So I just did what any normal cheesecake deprived person would do and ate my hubby's Heath Blizzard and called it good.

There's a valuable lesson in here somewhere, I'm just not totally sure what it is.

2. I absolutely love, Love, LOVE every single Target back to school commercial this year.

3. Almost every single field in my hood is decked out with either freshly cut hay or hay bales. It is my absolute favorite smell in the world. A breeze is blowing and the windows are open and I'm constantly catching a whiff.

Dreamy.

4. Shortly after my oldest son and his wife moved back to Montana, he got a job as a police officer in our small town.

He's been on the job for six months, and I have yet to see him in his uniform. It's making me a little crazy and so I've resorted to some unsavory behavior, otherwise known as stalking.

Just last week I saw his police car turning down a side street. I whipped into the left turn lane in an effort to engage in a hot pursuit, but sadly, I was thwarted by oncoming traffic. By the time all the slow poke drivers had passed by, junior was gone.

Another time I was heading home from the grocery store and came upon a fresh fender bender right in the middle of the main road through town. Nobody was hurt, but it was obvious the police would soon be arriving. I slipped around the corner and parked my car discreetly next to the coin operated car wash and waited. He'd never see me in my awesome hiding spot, but I'd finally get to see him in action.

Up pulls the police car and out hops.....another police officer. What? Our police force is quite small and I was sure it would be him.

Dang!

What do I have to do to see him in his uniform? Rob the liquor store?

He told me later that he was at the shooting range.

Shooting range?

Sounds suspiciously like code for donut shop to me.

5. Going through chemo, I knew I'd miss my hair. Now I'm losing my eyelashes and I miss them a lot, too.

But, I never dreamed I'd miss my nose hairs. Those pesky nose hairs serve a purpose, and I've gone through more tissue in the last two months than I have in the last two years.

September 11, 2013

September 9, 2013

When I found out I had breast cancer, three hundred and sixty five million thoughts took their turns rolling through my head.

Make that three hundred and sixty six.

I'm sure none of you will be surprised to hear that after the initial life and death types of thoughts, and the I have no clue what's in store kinds of thoughts, I eventually worked my way down the list to the losing my hair during chemo kinds of thoughts.

I put off thinking about it as long as possible, but the wonderful nurse who was pretty much in charge of managing my life from the day I was diagnosed finally forced me to think about it the week before I started chemo.

We talked about wigs and hats and scarves - all perfectly viable options - and then at the end, she told me about a company that takes your own hair and turns it into a wiggish/cap type of thing that you wear with a hat.

While it was still extremely - and I mean extremely difficult to have my hair cut and then have my head shaved, it was a bit easier knowing that I would soon have my very own hair back on my very own head.

Here I am with my youngest the day before the big haircut.

My BFF followed the website instructions for cutting and packaging up my hair. We both cried while she put it in all the little ponies, we cried some more as she cut each pony off, and then we cried some more while she took the clippers to my head.

And then, thank goodness, we were finally done crying.

About two weeks later, my hair arrived right back here, ready for wearing.

Here I am with my hubby and my new hair and my favorite hat.

(This picture was taken with the self timer on my camera and we are laughing because I obviously have no clue how to use the self timer on my camera. That we ended up with one acceptable picture is a miracle in line with loaves and fishes.)

My hair is amazingly comfortable. (Although, bald feels the best, and the second I get home the hair comes off.)

I feel totally myself when I'm wearing it, and during a season in life when I'm not feeling myself in many other ways, that means a lot.

In order to have a halo made with your own hair, your hair needs to be at least eight inches long. However, they have many similar products available that do not require you to send in your own hair.

So ladies, file this one away in case you or someone you love ends up walking down this road. It's been a huge factor in my ability to feel good about myself while going through chemo, so I wanted to get the word out in case it can be of help to someone else.

p.s. Random zinnia pictures included simply because I realized I haven't posted a single zinnia picture this year, and summer can't end without some zinnia love.

p.p.s. Six treatments down, only two to go. If I stay on schedule I'm done October 3rd. WOOT!